Caes. Accutus,[324] you have deserved much of our love, but might we not breake the law of sport so farre as to know to whome our thankes is due, by seeing them unmaskt and the reason of their habits?
Acut. Most willingly, my Soveraigne, ile cause their returne.
Hostis. Oh excellent! now we shal see them unmaskt. [Exit.
Get. In troth, I had good hope the formost had bene Acteon, when I saw his hornes.
Cit. wif. Sure the middlemost was my husband, see if he have not a wen in his forehead.
Enter Maskers.
Host. God blesse thee, noble Caesar, & all these brave bridegroomes, with their fine little dydoppers, that looke before they sleep to throw away their maiden heads: I am host of the Hobbie, Cornut. is my neighbour, but wele pull of his bopeeper; thou't know me by my nose, I am a mad merie grig, come to make thy grace laugh; sir Scillicet my guest; all true canaries, that love juce of grapes, god blesse thy Maiestie.
Acut. How now, mine Host?
Host. Ha, ha, I spie a jest. Ha, ha, Cornutus, Cornutus.
Acut. Nay, mine host, heeres a moate in your eye to [sic].